During that first e-mail, New Years 2013 or something. That email where I said I was so goddamn angry if I hit you I could kill you.
That anger wasn’t directed at you per say, but I wan angry because after the many trial and error efforts I had made to find love again, with someone else, someone new, I somehow found my way back to a person that didn’t feel the same way about me.
even now as I struggle through a new episode of psychosis, trying to make things work with my current partner who is, far more understanding about my condition I won’t open up about, I still hear your name on the wind, the voices tell me you wanted to be in London, and have already decided to die.
Ok fine whatever, what does any of this have to do with me?
You and I have said plenty already.
I have written enough to fill a library.
You don’t want me.
I accept that.
Why can’t I seem to move on?
That’s what makes me so fucking beyond angry.
That’s the driving force behind my murderous thoughts.
I’ve been trying to do everything the right way.
Give you space. Get therapy, find someone else, use drugs, workout.
Nothing works.
And when the voices try to tell me “oh she’ll get back together with you, you’ll see”
Really likes to write a different tale.
Even now as the conspiracy all unfolds in my mind the voices tell me every actor in my industry was actually someone else trying to agitate a reaction out of me by using your name instead of their own.
So I’m suffering because I loved someone and decided to cut the world off after that, where they “love” me to some idiotic point of no return, a place that says “if I can’t love him than no one can” and try to force me to commit suicide instead of just leaving me alone.
For WEEKS this conundrum has been bouncing around in my skull and while it apparently has little to do with you, you’re the center of it.
I’m not angry at you, I’m angry at the circumstances.
I would have never bothered you if this hadn’t happened but it did, and I’ve spent the better part of 15 years proving at least to myself, if no one else is reading/watching, that there was someone I loved.
And I wish it were just that.